One Night Stand
by Brokie
Summary: RENTfic. Roger has made a mistake. Sorry, MR fans, but it's not who you probably want it to be. FINISHED!
1. Dental Hygiene and Regrets

We were drunk 

**Story Title:**

One Night Stand

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Disclaimer: nope, they're not mine.

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Author:

Brokie

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Author's Note: Like I said in the summary, it's.. well, let's just say that it's probably not who you think (or wish) it is. I'll leave it at that. I'll probably be putting up a new chapter for this pretty soon, as long as everyone doesn't hate it. Oh, and the chapter titles are gonna be weird, but once you read it you'll understand. :-)

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Chapter Title:

Dental Hygiene and Regrets

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Chapter Rating:

PG-13; naughty language, descriptions of naughty things

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Chapter Description: It's the morning after, and Roger awakens to discover that he's made a very big mistake.

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*Please Read This* -- I recently posted a fic entitled "Something Like Human." As of right now, I have only gotten one review for it. I would really appreciate it if some kind-hearted person might take a few minutes to R&R it. Thanks.

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»Roger«

We were drunk. It wasn't supposed to happen, it was one of those things that you know beforehand and afterwards is wrong, but at the time I guess we were so wasted we didn't even care. I didn't think about how Mimi and I weren't really separated, just fighting like we always seemed to be. I didn't realize that I could be ruining everything, that after this our inevitable reconciliation couldn't happen—not if I told her, not if she knew what I had done. It was a stupid, stupid mistake that I can't fix. And I did ruin everything. I'm going to tell her, because she deserves at least that, after all the times I've accused her of doing exactly what I did last night.

I haven't tried to open my eyes yet. I'm not even sure I can.. and my head feels like it's being slowly crushed into nothingness. Someone please remind me, why did I feel the need to drown in beer and sadness last night? Of course I should know the answer, but right now it hurts to concentrate on much of anything so I won't even bother. I'll just lay here and think about how I've fucked things up yet again.. probably for the last time, too. There isn't a way to get out of this or repair the damage I've done in a matter of hours and a few too many drinks.

And I haven't even started to think about what will be going through his head when he wakes up. Yes, he. Shit. That makes it even worse, that I'm afraid he'll go through hell when he realizes who's laying next to him. It won't just be that it's me, it will be that it's anyone at all.

Suddenly a familiar feeling sweeps over me, and I scramble out of bed, thankful that I'm at least wearing boxers. I move as fast as I can—in this state, at least—to the bathroom and empty my stomach until there's nothing left. Alright, Captain Crunch _definitely_ doesn't taste the same coming back up. Ah, the wonders of drinking.. forgetting your problems for awhile only to have them brought back twice as painful mere hours later. Last night, I was drinking so I wouldn't have to think of the screaming match I had with Mimi yesterday afternoon. Today, I have to think about it again, and I also am just beginning to realize how screwed I am; we'll fight again when I tell her, and getting back together will no doubt be close to impossible.

And then we have the little problem of the man who's laying in my bed right now.. I wander back into the bedroom and over to him, looking down and studying him intently. He looks so peaceful, content, the corners of his mouth turned up slightly, and for a second I forget how he got into this bed and what that means. He hardly ever looks happy anymore.. Right now I can tell that if he's dreaming, it's not about everything he's lost and how alone I know he must feel sometimes. He's dreaming about how things used to be, just like I wish I could.

I make my way back to the other side of the bed and sit down, careful not to disturb him. I try to put happy images in my mind, but it doesn't seem to be working. I try to push everything out of my head, but I can't get over the fact that I single-handedly destroyed my relationship with Mimi.

He rolls over and I turn toward him, hear him mumble something incoherently, see his eyes slowly flutter open. My breath catches momentarily and I curse myself, wondering when I started lusting after guys.. when I started lusting after him, for fuck's sake. I don't have time to think anymore, because he's staring up at me and it looks like it's starting to register.

"R-Roger?" he asks in a voice far too low and husky for my liking. "Why are you—what happened?"

"I, uh.." I pause and clear my throat. "We—fuck, this is.. we got drunk. Really drunk. And we.."

I trail off, and he looks at me, the realization hitting him just as hard as it did me. His eyes take in my barely clothed body and he winces.

"Shit."

"Yeah. Fuck, I don't even remember how we got back here.." I muse softly.

"We took a cab. I think you said I could stay here and then we, um.."

"Fell into bed together by accident?" I inquire hopefully. He shakes his head. I sigh. "We had sex, didn't we."

He nods and then his face starts to turn an interesting shade of pale green.. he launches himself onto his feet and into the bathroom. I follow him and rub his back comfortingly as he copies my actions from moments earlier. When he's done, he slumps down and flushes the toilet, leaning against the wall and closing his eyes.

"I didn't know I was that repulsive," I joke halfheartedly. He looks at me for a second and then his face breaks into a soft smile.

"You're not, I just.. god, how much did we have to drink last night?"

"Too much?"

"Yeah.." he sighs, then looks at me, concerned. "What're you gonna do about Mimi?"

I rub my eyes and run my fingers through my tangled hair. "I don't know. I guess I'm gonna tell her, for starters."

His eyes widen. "But—"

"I know. But she deserves the truth. And if that means it's over, well then I guess I really fucked up this time, huh?"

He bites his lip and shrugs. "Well, the way I remember, it was only about half your fault."

"Half my fault.. well, that makes me feel so much better," I say sarcastically, giving him an awkward smile to show I'm not really mad at him.

"How much do you remember?" he asks softly, crawling over to sit next to me by the bathtub.

"I remember bits and pieces. I remember the bartender calling us a cab because we could barely stand up. Then we somehow got back here, and then.. I-I remember kissing you. A lot. And—" I break off, my face flushing as I realize just what else we did.

"You don't have to say it if you don't want to," he assures me. "I, um, probably remember it anyway.."

I look up at him. "I gave you a blow job," I whisper. "And then we had sex."

I swear under my breath. "Why do I always mess everything up?"

He doesn't answer, just puts an arm around my shoulders and pulls me closer to him, both of us oblivious to the fact that we're both still clad in only our boxers. After a few seconds, he clears his throat softly.

"If it's any consolation," he tells me, sounding very serious, "it was a pretty good blow job."

For some reason, at that moment, my head decides that this is the funniest thing I have ever heard. I crack up and bury my face in my hands, laughing uncontrollably. He soon joins in, probably more from watching me try to breathe through my laughter than from thinking what he said was quite as funny as I do. When we finally stop, I lay my head on his shoulder without thinking, like it's the most natural thing in the world.

"This feels nice," I murmur. "It shouldn't, though. I should be worrying about what's going to happen between me and Mimi, not thinking about—about how nice it would be if this actually meant something."

He's silent for a few seconds before he responds. "You want this to mean something?"

I look down and pull at a lose thread on my boxers. "I don't know.. do you? I mean, do you regret what we did?"

"Well.. at Life Support, we always say 'forget regret, or life is yours to miss.' I guess I do regret some things.. I regret that we were too drunk to realize what we were doing. I regret that if you tell Mimi it will probably ruin your relationship. But.. I don't know, if you're talking about Angel, then I think she would want me to move on. Maybe not by getting drunk and sleeping with you, but I think you know what I mean."

"Yeah," I reply with a small smile, raising my head to look up at him and not realizing—or caring—how close our faces are. "Collins, what am I going to do?"

"Well, for starters, you could try brushing your teeth," he replies matter-of-factly, smirking down at me. He quickly turns serious, though, and I bite my lip as he gives me his advice. "Then you can take a shower, take some Advil, and wait until you see Mimi. Or you could go find her. And then you tell her and see how it goes."

I nod. "Okay. How do you think she'll take it?"

He sighs. "It depends. If she's gotten over the fight you had yesterday and at least forgiven you for that, then luck might be on your side. If she hasn't gotten over it.. then I hate to say it, Roger, but you are in deep shit."

I frown at his bluntness, but I know he's right. I glance at the clock on the counter by the sink—it's 12:30 already. He follows my gaze and as we climb to our feet at the same time, I find myself wishing his arm wouldn't slip off my shoulders like it's doing right now. I turn toward him, smiling and trying to look brave. He gives me a look that says 'I see straight through you, Davis, and you are scared out of your mind.'

"I am not scared!" I protest to his wordless accusation.

He gives me a knowing smirk in return. "Sure you aren't, Roger."

"Fine, maybe I'm a little nervous," I mutter. He raises an eyebrow. "Okay, I'm more than a little nervous. Are you happy now? You just made me admit my feelings! I'm supposed to be all.. masculine, and—and pissed off!"

His lips are closed tightly over his mouth, but his eyes are laughing at me. When the urge to laugh in my face passes, he gives me this response: "Collins, what am I going to do?" Said in a very accurate imitation of my voice, I might add, accompanied by some overacting worthy of a soap opera.

"Shut up!" I laugh, my face turning a little red. The room is quiet for a few seconds and I turn serious again. "Thank you, Collins."

I pull him into an impulsive hug, which he returns, but as he pulls away he asks me what I'm thanking him for.

"For helping me figure out what to do about Mimi. For not freaking out. For giving me your ever-so-valuable dental hygiene advice.."

He grins. "You're welcome, Rog."

I smile back, staring into his eyes for a little too long and blushing when I realize it. I clear my throat to break the silence. "So.. are you gonna stay here, or go home? I'm gonna take a shower, but you can have some breakfast if you want.. if there's anything in the kitchen, that is."

"Actually, I should probably be heading home," he says, sounding uncomfortable. I glance at him questioningly, asking for a reason why. "I, um.. left the curling iron on?"

I chuckle. "S'okay if you wanna leave, you probably wouldn't feel comfortable if Mimi dropped by or something."

"Yeah."

"So, I'll probably see you tomorrow sometime, right?"

"Yep. Bye then," Collins says, looking unsure as to whether or not he really wants to leave.

"Yeah.. bye," I answer, feeling the exact same way.

He heads into the bedroom to get his clothes, and I hurry after him.

"Collins, wait.. um, I was just thinking, I don't think Mimi will probably come back until at least tonight, so you could stay.. if you want to that is."

I stare at the ground, wondering why I feel like my very existence hinges on his answer.

"Sure. I-yeah, I'll stay. I don't have anything important to do today, anyway."

"Okay," I say, feeling awkward once again. "Well.. I'm gonna go take a shower, so you can get some breakfast—er, lunch I guess—or whatever."

He nods and starts to pull on his jeans. It's not an unfamiliar sight—when all five of us used to live here there were people wandering around half-clothed all the time, and we shared bedrooms so it wasn't new to see someone getting dressed. But suddenly, the image is just too.. sexual. Him putting his clothes back on only reminds me of why—and how—they came off. Which, I realize, is not exactly a bad thing to be reminded of, but I feel way too guilty as it is so I definitely don't want to go fantasizing about my best friend when I'm still with Mimi. And I'm not even sure if I want to be with her anymore and I'm so confused and I just realized that I haven't moved from where I was standing in my room and Collins is looking at me with a curious expression on his face.

"Is something wrong?" he asks.

"No, I was just.. thinking. I'd better go shower now," I say, leaving the room quickly. I shut the bathroom door, pull off my boxers, and step under the water with a sigh. I keep trying not to think about the mess I have made, but whenever I succeed in doing so, the only other thing that will pop into my head is image after image of Collins. Mostly images that, coupled with the hot water, are having.. quite an effect on me, shall we say.

My hand starts to stray downward of its own accord, but then I hear Collins walk past the door and I realize that the last thing I want him to hear is me moaning his name like I probably was last—shit. I just had to go and remind myself.. I sigh and grab the soap, deciding that it would be in my best interest to finish my shower as quickly as possible.

I'll continue if you want me to.. but seriously, was that too weird? It's different than most of the other stuff I've written.. a whole hell of a lot less angsty, for one thing. I seriously don't know how I managed to write a Roger/Collins fic, but.. yeah. Please review.


	2. Forget Your Inhibitions

**Story Title:**

One Night Stand

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Disclaimer: still not mine

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Author:

Brokie

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Author's Note: Yeah, so this fic is incredibly weird. Thanks to everyone who reviewed. I still don't know how I managed to write a Roger/Collins fic, but.. yeah. *shrugs*

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Chapter Title:

Forget Your Inhibitions

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Rating:

PG for Collins' naughty thoughts

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Chapter Description: Roger and Collins talk some more, and then Mark comes home.

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»Collins«

When Roger comes out of the bathroom, I'm lounging on the frayed couch, my feet up on the three-legged coffee table, the fourth corner of which is being supported by a stack of old magazines and papers. Sitting on the table are two cups of coffee, mine nearly empty and his freshly poured and still steaming slightly. There's also a bowl of cereal that I made about ten minutes ago but haven't touched; I'm not feeling quite ready to eat yet.

I can't help but notice that even in faded jeans and an old t-shirt, Roger still manages to look sexy. I banish the thought from my head immediately and try to think of his relationship with Mimi.. _that might be over soon._ No! Just because Roger is extremely good looking and just because we slept together does not mean he's gay _or_ interested. _But it probably means something._ But he was drunk! _So? People are less repressed when they're uninhibited._ Well this is great, I'm having an argument with myself. Just peachy. I think I need to go back to sleep.. _with Roger._ No, no, no, it's not going to happen, so just stop it already!

Roger walks over and sits down next to me, so I immediately put on my best "no, of course I wasn't just thinking about how great it would be to sleep with you again" face and turn toward him.

"Made you some coffee," I tell him, stretching my arms up over my head. "You feeling any better?"

"Physically or mentally?" he inquires.

"Both."

"Physically.. the Advil I just took hasn't kicked in yet, so not so great. I brushed my teeth though," he tells me with a smirk. "Mentally, I'm pretty much trying not to think about anything yet. It's just.. well, shit. Did I ruin everything? And now I'm starting to wonder if that's really such a bad thing."

I look at him, a little confused, trying hard to look like I'm not duct taping the mouth of the little voice that wants to turn what he just said into something it's not. "What do you mean?"

"I mean that it's getting so hard to deal with. It's like the only reason we're with each other is so we can fight and stop speaking and then get back together, and then just go and do it all over again. We don't talk as much as we should, and I'm not happy anymore. I don't think she is either.. I don't know what to do, but I guess it isn't even my decision. It all depends on what she says when I tell her."

"Yeah," I answer, telling myself that I'm really _not_ hoping they break up. And people think I'm the nice one..

He sighs and sips his coffee. We sit in a comfortable silence for nearly ten minutes before he turns to me and asks the same question that's been at the back of my mind all morning. "This isn't going to change things between us, is it?" he questions. "We're not gonna get all awkward around each other, right?"

"Nothing's going to change if you don't want it to," I reply. I briefly wonder if he catches my double meaning, but I try not to get my hopes up. Okay, _where_ is this coming from? Do I have some crush on Roger that I myself just haven't noticed until now or something? I sigh deeply, and he glances at me but doesn't say anything.

After awhile, we somehow get into a discussion about how the loft used to be when all six of us lived here. This gets us started recounting embarrassing stories about our friends, and occasionally each other, and pretty soon we're falling off the couch laughing. That's probably why Mark gives us such a strange look when he comes into the door. Roger and I quickly pretend we weren't just talking about the time Benny found that pair of handcuffs in Mark and Maureen's dresser drawer when he was looking for something.

"And where were _you_ last night?" Roger asks, his voice sounding plenty suggestive. Mark's face immediately turns a rather amusing shade of pink and I try not to laugh.

"I went home with that girl from the bar," he answers, sounding somewhat shy despite what he's implying.

Roger and I glance at each other and at the same time ask, "What girl?"

"The one with the blond hair and the tank top that said 'naughty' on the front," he replies nonchalantly.

"Oh yeah, I think I remember her.." I nod, but when Mark walks down the hall to his room I give Roger a look that tells him I have no idea who Mark is talking about. He smiles and then turns toward me, looking nervous.

"Um, Collins? Do you wanna.. do you think we should tell him?"

I consider this for a second. "I think we should wait until you tell Mimi, so she doesn't find out from someone else."

He nods as Mark walks back into the room.

"So, Collins, what're you doing here?" Mark asks innocently.

"I came back here from the bar at about two in the morning so Roger told me I could crash here," I answer, hoping I sound like I'm telling the whole truth and not just the part that happened before all the kissing. And the blow job. And who can forget the sex? Not me, I'm sure. Mark looks like he believes me, and why wouldn't he? Because if my crush on Roger is that obvious then I think I'll just go into the other room and panic real quick.

"Oh. Well, I think I'm gonna go film in the park, so I'll see you guys later. Have fun."

"Okay, later," Roger answers.

"Bye Mark," I add.

"Oh, and Roger, I saw Mimi on the way back from Shelley's. She told me she's gonna come up here and talk to you tonight.."

Roger stares at Mark for a few seconds. "Talk to me, as in work things out and get back together, or talk to me as in she has something bad to tell me?"

Mark looks uncomfortable. "Umm, I'm not sure, I wasn't really paying enough attention I guess. I would think you'd be getting back together, I mean, you always do, right?"

"Right," Roger says, sounding less than convinced. "Okay, bye then."

"See ya."

Mark slips out the door—without his camera for once—and Roger turns to me, an unsure look on his face.

"Collins?"

"Yeah?" I ask, the back of my mind busy thinking about how adorable he looks when he's worried. I'm going to stop with these thoughts, I really am..

"Did you believe him?"

"Hmm? Believe Mark? What, about the girl from the bar?" I ask hopefully, not wanting to have to hurt him if he's asking what I think he is.

"No, about Mimi. Do you really think he was telling the truth when he said he didn't know what she wants to talk to me about? When he said he wasn't paying attention?"

I sigh. "Roger, I really don't know. Maybe he wasn't paying attention because he was hung over, or because he was thinking about Sherry, or whatever that girl's name was."

"But maybe he did know and he didn't want to tell me," Roger finishes for me. I nod reluctantly. "I hope she's okay. I don't think she's gone to the doctor very recently or anything.. and if she cheated on me or something, then at least she's telling me, and it would be stupid to get mad about it because I cheated on her, too. Sorry, are you uncomfortable with talking about this?"

"Oh, I'm.. yeah, a little bit," I admit. "I'm sure Mimi's perfectly healthy, Rog, she's been doing fine. And you said yourself you weren't sure what you wanted to happen with the relationship, and maybe she feels the same way. That might be better for both of you, because then you could talk it over and decide what you want to happen."

He stares at me for a few seconds. "Collins, I don't think I tell you how great you are anywhere near enough."

Now it's my turn to stare. Then I get a mischievous thought..

"You mean in bed?" I ask, raising an eyebrow and smirking. "Oh, well I don't need you to tell me that, people tell me that all the time. In fact, just the other day—"

Suddenly I realize that his face is bright red and he's trying very hard to avoid looking at me. Well, shit, why don't I just scare the poor little straight boy a bit more for good measure?

"I'm sorry, Roger, I know that's not what you meant.."

He looks up at me, his eyes wide and far too easy to drown in. "Collins, do you think I'm gay?" he questions softly, catching me a little off guard.

"I don't know, Roger, do you think you are?" I ask gently. "What happened last night doesn't necessarily mean anything about your sexuality. You might be the straightest guy on the planet and just have had too much to drink. Or, it could mean that you've unknowingly been in the closet all this time and have had a huge crush on me since the day we met."

I get at least a tiny smile out of him, but he doesn't look very reassured. He moves over so he's sitting next to me and looks at me, unsure.

"Collins? Could you.. maybe put your arm around me like you did in the bathroom earlier?" Jesus, I haven't heard him sound this vulnerable since April's suicide.. And he wants me to—oh, shut up, now's not the time. He wants me to comfort him, not to find hidden meanings in everything he says.

I nod and slide my arm around him, pulling him close to me and letting him rest his head on my shoulder. And it doesn't feel uncomfortable or unnatural, or like it means anything more than it would have yesterday or the day before. It just feels like he needs me, like he needs someone to reassure him and tell him everything's going to be okay, and I'm happy to oblige for no other reason than to make him happy again.

Wow.. the ending got a bit fluffy and sugary sweet there didn't it? This will probably be continued quite soon. I really don't understand the whole thing with me being able to write this but unable to write anything I like on my other two unfinished fics, but oh well.. Anyways, please review!


	3. Incest and Apologies

**Story Title:**

One Night Stand

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Disclaimer: Not mine. Don't sue.

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Author:

Brokie

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Author's Note: This fic is so weird. This chapter is a little shorter and more serious than the first two. Chapter 2 was supposed to be serious as well, but that lasted about until Collins started arguing with himself and that was it. Except for the end, which was so sugary and sweet I'm going to be flossing extra for weeks. :-)

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Chapter Title:

Incest and Apologies

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Rating:

PG. It's pretty much harmless.

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Chapter Description: Mimi comes to the loft with some news of her own.

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»Roger«

This feels way too perfect. We're practically cuddling on the couch and even though I know we shouldn't be doing this, even if it's not supposed to mean anything, I still don't want him to let go of me. At least I'm not getting any more.. interesting thoughts like I got when Mark told us to "have fun." Those are bad thoughts, and I should push them out of my head and think about Mimi.. perfect sexy Mimi who never smiles enough anymore, and when she does, I can't be sure, but I don't think it reaches her eyes. It wasn't supposed to be like this, of course, it was supposed to be forever and happily ever after, even though in our case forever is a short time and it's not even happy between the screaming matches anymore.

I sigh and Collins rubs my shoulder gently.

"You okay?" he murmurs.

"Yeah.. just thinking."

"About Mimi?" he asks.

"Uh huh. And you."

"What about me?"

"About how—about last night. And this morning. And how I'm so"—I'm interrupted by a yawn—"tired.."

"Here, why don't you lay down and take a nap," he says softly. I feel like I'm about five years old, but I don't really care because I'm already half asleep. He lays me down on the couch and starts to get up and leave, but I grab his arm.

"Stay with me 'till I fall asleep?" I beg.

"Masculine and pissed off, huh?" he inquires with a teasing smile.

"Please?" I whimper, putting on my best 'lost little boy' look. I can already see his resolve cracking.. and sure enough, within seconds he's sitting on the edge of the couch, rubbing my back.

"Hey Collins? Do you think last night should count as incest, because you're acting so much like my mom right now?" I ask him. He thinks it's pretty funny, but I don't really understand why..

"You're not very awake, are you?" he questions when he finally stops laughing.

"Nope. That feels nice."

Then my eyes slip closed and I don't have the energy to open them again. He says something I can't understand but I'm too tired to ask him what he means.

I'm awakened by the door being unlocked. I open my eyes as Mimi walks in, looking nervous. When she spots me on the couch, rubbing my eyes and sitting up, she smiles, but it's not an "I love you so much" smile, it's a "please forgive me" smile. I stand up.

"Hi."

"Hey, Rog," she says softly. "Listen, I think we need to talk."

I nod. "You wanna sit down?" I ask, gesturing toward the couch.

She comes over and sits, but she doesn't curl up and get comfortable like she usually does. She looks restless, and like she's trying to stay as far from me as possible. I settle down in the middle of the couch and look at her. She's biting her lip and staring at the table. I glance down and notice that the coffee mugs are gone.

"So," she finally begins, "About yesterday. I'm sorry I got mad over a stupid thing like you leaving your boots on the floor."

"I'm sorry I left them there and I'm sorry I yelled when you asked me to move them," I answer. She still avoids my gaze. "That's not all, is it?"

"No, it's not," she sighs. "Um.. I went to the Life Cafe last night. I had a few drinks, and I didn't go home alone."

I stare at her for a few seconds and I realize that for once, I'm not getting that surge of jealousy I should be getting, because I don't think of her as mine anymore. I don't think I have in a long time.

"That's kind of ironic," I say softly, "because I went to a bar last night. And I didn't go home by myself either."

She looks stunned for a moment, but then accepting. "Okay. I—thank you for not getting angry at me."

"Thank you, too."

"I just have one question. It wasn't Mark, was it?"

I stare for a second, trying to laugh but being unable to muster up the energy to do so. "Oh, no, definitely not. From what I've heard he went home with some girl named.. Sarah? Sally? Sherry? Something like that."

"Oh."

"Mimi, this isn't working, is it."

"This? You mean us? No.. I don't think it is."

"You don't smile anymore. You're not happy. I'm not either."

She shakes her head. "So, what now?"

"I don't know. We're breaking up, aren't we?"

"Yeah."

"Okay.. I'm sorry, Mimi. That I cheated on you. That it isn't going to last forever."

"Things like this never do," she answers, and I can tell she means that good things never last, so I nod and manage a smile.

"Roger? Would I, um.. would I want to know who it was?"

I sigh and run my fingers through my hair. "You probably wouldn't, but I do think you deserve to know. I'll tell you if you want me to."

"I want you to."

"I don't want you to get mad at them. We were both drunk. It wasn't his fault."

"I won't get mad. But—his?"

"Yeah. It—Mimi, it was Collins."

A look of shock slides across her face and she raises her eyes to look into mine.

"I.. wow, this is.. unexpected, to say the least. I guess it really doesn't matter now, anyway. Don't worry, I'm not mad, I just.. you two? Really?"

"Yeah," I reply with a wry little smile. "We came back here from the bar and things just kinda happened. Was yours.. was it someone I would know?"

"No, I wouldn't think so. I'd never met him before at least. His name was Chris."

"Oh. Okay."

The silence that follows is far too long and uncomfortable for my taste, so I'm glad when she has the courage to break it.

"Well, as.. awkward as this is, I've gotta be going," she tells me.

"Alright, I'll see you.. well, sometime soon," I say.

"Okay, bye then. I hope everything works out with Collins."

"Thanks. Bye."

She gives me an unsure smile, picks up her bag, and leaves quietly. I sit on the couch for a few minutes, trying not to think, before grabbing my wallet and heading out the door as well.

Review and I'll love you forever and ever!


	4. Too Right to Be Wrong

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Story Title:

One Night Stand

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Disclaimer: still not mine

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Author:

Brokie

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Author's Note: It's done! Thank you to everyone who has reviewed & asked me to continue. Special big huge thanks to Jolie for the review of Chapter 1 she e-mailed me way back when. :-)

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Chapter Title:

Too Right to Be Wrong

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Rating:

PG-13 for..

stuff ;-)

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Chapter Description: Collins gets a visitor. Hmm, wonder who it is? *w*

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»Collins«

I'm trying not to think about last night, but it just isn't working. The scenes and images that keep flashing through my head are definitely not things I should be thinking about right now. I keep thinking of Roger, eyes closed, as he.. well, look at that. I think I need to go take a very very cold shower. _With Roger._ Yes, wouldn't that be nice. Only it's never going to happen, so shut up! Think about Benny's dead Akita. Think about the old man on the corner who doesn't have any teeth left. _Think about kissing Roger._ No, wait, on second thought, don't think about that. Think about how it meant absolutely nothing. _But he said he might want it to mean something._ So? He's just confused. And I'm just arguing with myself again. Great.

The doorbell rings. As I unlock and open the door, I try really hard to convince myself that it isn't him. But it is, and he looks.. strange. A little sad, more than a little nervous. When he sees me looking at him, he steps in and offers up a half smile that instantly lets me know what this is about.

"You talked to Mimi?" I ask as I shut the door behind him, already knowing the answer.

"Yeah. I—we.. she went home with someone else last night," he tells me, his words calm and accepting instead of angry like I would have expected. "We broke up. Which is weird. I mean, of course I care that it's over, but I guess it doesn't really feel like I'm losing anything."

"Why not?" I question, more than a little confused.

"I think I already lost her awhile ago. And it's for the best, which sounds cliche, I know, but it is."

He looks like he's about to add something else but doesn't quite know what to say. "But that doesn't make it stop hurting, right?" I ask gently.

"Of course not. I—God, Collins, she's supposed to be the one, you know? The last person I ever thought I could fall out of love with. I guess I kind of understand the logic behind the whole 'I love you but I'm not in love with you' thing now. But, I mean.. when did we drift apart? You wouldn't know the answer to that, but I'm just—this is so messed up."

I raise an eyebrow questioningly. "What's messed up about it?"

He glances up, giving me his infamous lost-little-boy look again, and I can almost feel something inside of me breaking at the sight of it. I want him to stop hurting, anything to make him smile again..

He looks at his feet and then back up, with the same sort of boyish shyness he had when I first met him. Yes, shyness; the result of constant alienation and having a father who Roger could never be good enough for.

And so there we stood, me resisting the urge to envelop him in my arms and him busy dredging up one of those little smiles I've seen too many times before—the kind that I always know is fake and always wish could be real. The back of my head is still thinking illogical thoughts like how he never answered my question and weren't Roger and Mimi supposed to be together forever? But the rest of me is too preoccupied with following my instincts and stepping forward to wrap my arms around him.

He moves forward as well, meeting me halfway and suddenly I feel his lips pressed against mine. It feels surreal but at the same time unbelievably authentic compared to the hazy frayed memories I have of last night. The reasonable part of me is insisting this must be a mistake, he couldn't have meant to kiss me. But when I open my eyes, his are closed and he's not stopping and I have to stop this no matter how perfect I think it feels, it's wrong, it's wrong.. It's _wrong, _and I'm just now realizing that and I'm pushing him away and no! He is _not_ supposed to look like that, I am not supposed to have hurt him too, and I have to explain to him, explain that it's all for the wrong reasons—

"No, no, Roger, we can't do this! It's—you're only doing this because you just broke up with Mimi, I'm just a rebound—"

He pauses, studies my face in a way that makes me blush. "What if I told you it wasn't because of Mimi? What if I said you were the farthest thing from any rebound I've ever had?"

God his voice is sexy, but—"If you told me that," I murmur. "If you did.. would you be telling the truth?"

He kisses my pulse lightly, then presses his lips to the corner of my mouth. "Would it even matter if I wasn't?" he whispers in my ear. I shiver.

"I hate you.." I tell him, wishing with every irrational part of me that he would kiss me again. "But please, Rog, I need to.."

He pulls back and stares into my eyes. "It's not because of Mimi."

And I'm staring back at him and trying to breathe and _god _his lips are soft.. So amazing, no matter how wrong it's supposed to be. I'm just now realizing that even though we really shouldn't be doing this, it feels too right to be wrong, and even if it is wrong, I'm already too far past caring to do anything about it. And now I'm realizing that I really need to stop thinking..

Huh. I guess Roger was right. This is pretty messed up, isn't it?

THE END

So.. liked it? Hated it? Please review.

P.S.—Apologies to all you Collins/Angel fans out there.. yes, I know they're adorable and they're supposed to be together forever, but I am a very weird person and I really didn't mean for this fic to happen at all. Sorry.


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